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Friday, November 20, 2015

A Festschrift for Tony Frazer

Tony Frazer is one of
the great poetry publishers of our time. 'This website,' the editors say, 'is
a tribute to him on his 64th birthday. It contains more than 200 contributions
from poets whose writing he has published since 1981 under his imprints Shearsman Books and Shearsman Magazine, as well
as from friends and well-wishers. Together, these present a unique collective
tribute not only to Tony’s achievement as the publisher of more than 300
writers, but as a friend, as a man. In its variety and richness, this unusual
anthology bears witness to the far-sightedness, adventurousness, eclecticism
and dedication of Tony’s vision for poetry and his tireless pursuit of the new,
the original and the excellent.'

My contribution is a fictional poem by a fictional poet who
writes a real homage to a real poet who was translated by Tony Frazer. (He is a
good translator, a fact not mentioned in the above, but I’m sure other contributors
in this huge labyrinth of praise have noted the fact.)

It will take a long time to read all of this website, but a first surf
(nobody uses that metaphor anymore, do they?) reveals a poem by Scott Thurston
about generosity, here. Everybody uses that word of Tony. Kelvin Corcoran gets it
right, when he says:

To begin with, it’s very hard to wrest work from his hands
despite how busy he might be - surrounded by piles of manuscripts, books to
proof, books to post and books to read. Then you discover how quickly he
works. Next you’re floored by the realisation that uniquely for a
publisher he does exactly what he says he will do. Tony’s unstinting
generosity, good sense and boundless energy shines brightly in a dim world.

Read the rest of his piece here. As I say: 'We must honour this extraordinary and extraordinarily
generous man.' (See all the short tributes here.)

Patricia Farrell’s visual tribute alerts us to the other
media (image and video) also represented, here.

It is great to see two wily and incisive poems by Roy Fisher here, and sad but
gratifying to read Lee Harwood’s prose tribute, one of the last things he must
have written, here.